PunditMom

Mothers of Intention is usually a Wednesday feature here at PunditMom, but with all these world domination, I mean, PTA responsibilities at the beginning of the school year, I’ve asked Diana from Of The Princess and The Pea if I could “borrow” one of the posts from her blog about her daughter and a recent “political” experience.

Best Friends Across Political Parties

My daughter has the makings of a Democrat; her best friend, a Republican.

They’re only seven, but the real politicians could learn a thing or two from their ability to engage in respectful, rational discourse and continue friendship and a working relationship across “party divides.”

This past Saturday we made an almost five hour trek into Chicago to visit the evil that is the American Girl Place. Our girls live in the country. Our girls live in the country. The closest town to us has a population of 300. There are no homeless here. And if there are, they certainly aren’t camped out on the one short block of downtown sidewalk available with a cardboard sign looking for handouts.

Naturally during the close to six miles we walked that day we passed quite a few homeless men and a couple of women with signs. I noticed The Princess’ eyes lingering on them from the very first time we did. I could feel through her hand, her steps slowing just slightly as we passed, everything I’d ever told her about some people not having homes or clothes or toys so she must remain grateful coming to life. In her face I could almost see the revelation. Mom did not make this up, those people don’t have a home or clothes or toys. Oh. My. Gawd.

I’m not sure if she needed time to let it all gel in her mind or if she was simply too distracted by everything there was to see, but she did not say anything about the homeless she so clearly noticed until we had already boarded the train and begun our trip home that night.

“Mom?” She paused after my name just long enough to catch my glance from the seat beside her. “Did you see those people? With the signs?”

“Which ones, honey?”

“You know, the ones sitting by the buildings…”

“Yes, I saw them. What did they make you think?”

“They were hungry, I think.”

“Ahh, what makes you think that?”

“Their signs, they said that they needed help because they were very hungry.”

I was about to ask her what she thought about it all when her friend jumped in from across the aisle.

“Yeah, but they’ll probably just take it and buy junk.”

Here the look on The Princess’ face was one of pure exasperation. “They’re HUNGRY. They need to EAT!”

Her friend shot back nonchalantly. “Well, I think they’ll just probably buy junk like necklaces and pearls and then try to sell them for more money for more junk! Not food. That’s why I don’t like them out there.”

I interjected just for a moment to keep them on track, they are seven after all, and if they were going to have this discussion they’d might as well take something from it other than the realization that there are differed opinions on the topic of homelessness. “Girls, you both make good points. Some of them probably really are hungry, and others might really be tricking us with those signs to try to get money to spend on things they don’t need.” I figured for now necklaces and pearls were preferable to them knowing the real things often bought that are not needed. Things like crack, vodka and Xanax to help them deal with seven-year-old girls who are already on to their game, for instance. “Do you have any ideas about how you might be able to tell the difference? How do we deal with them if we can’t tell who is telling us the truth?”

They thought about just asking them, but decided if they’d lied on the sign chances are they’d lie to their faces, as well. They realized that there’s also the problem of there being so many of them, how do you have time to stop and talk to them all? They thought about not helping any of them, because there’s no way to know which are being truthful, but they weren’t sure it was fair to write everyone off across the board like that. They thought about helping all, but weren’t sure the very small allowance they work very hard to earn would go far. They didn’t come to a resolution, but they worked together as they tried and they both went away with a broader perspective of the situation.

As it turns out political, moral dilemmas are essentially identical whether you’re seven or seventy. Time, limited resources, and the desire to help but not be taken advantage of all prevail. The only difference? Seven-year-olds are much more capable of not taking the other party’s position personally, and so they work together to find a resolution. Even if they’re not immediately successful at least they can say they tried, together.

Politicians please take note.

Thanks, Diana, for hanging out at PunditMom and Mothers of Intention! Next up, Florinda from The Three R’s: Reading, ‘Riting & Randomness!

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